The Man in the Buff Breeches Read Online Free PDF

since our last meeting.
    She screws up her face as if she is mentally sifting the information,
    “So you and Nick hit it off and you are seeing him tonight—that’s brilliant.” She pauses and gives me a congratulatory hug before continuing. “The guy with the tight breeches was with Bo Peep in the room opposite. You thought he was dead but he wasn’t. Now you think he is stalking you. Just a normal day then,” she grins.
    “Oh, definitely. But seriously, Lyn, he was lurking outside the flats just before you pulled up. He said he was visiting friends, and then he was going to Starbucks.”
    Lyn frowns. “If he was visiting friends, you’d think they would have given him a coffee.”
    “See? You think it is weird behaviour as well. I’m sure he’s a criminal.”
    “Maybe, but going to Starbucks isn’t a crime. If he turns up again tomorrow, we better inform the police. Meanwhile, don’t let it spoil tonight.”
    She looks at her watch. “You haven’t long to get ready. Not that you need much time; you always look fabulous with those big green eyes, elf bones, and skinny figure. Which is more than I can say for this place.” Her gaze wanders around my lounge. “It needs a bit of tidy up.”
    “I have tidied,” I growl.
    “You should pack those books away and get rid of some of these.” She picks up one of my collection of elephants which are displayed on various surfaces throughout the flat.
    “They’re fine.” I snatch back the elephant and set it back in its place.
    She strides through to inspect the bedroom. “And those will have to go. Talk about passion killers.” She points to my bunny slippers, side by side at the end of the bed.
    “The bunnies and I come together. We are a package deal…” A cold ripple washes through me. I never leave them like that . I always kick them off one at a time in the morning, and they usually land under the dressing table.
    “Are you okay, Shona?” Lyn is frowning at me.
    I give myself a mental shake. I am being paranoid like yesterday. The flat was secure when I came in—no one has been here. “No I’m fine.” I pick up the slippers, and they gaze back with a don’t you dare bin us look. Of course I would never get rid of them, but I think until I get to know Nick better, I will put them to graze in the back of the wardrobe.

    Lyn leaves me with a list of do’s and don’ts for tonight which I mentally discard as soon as she drives away. She has washed my shoulder-length blond hair and applied the straightness so that it falls in glossy, well-groomed obedience.
    I wriggle into my knee-length, emerald satin dress. It is simple, stylish, and the colour brings out the green of my eyes. Waxed, washed, plucked, and perfumed, I apply a final coat of lip-gloss and study my reflection. Satisfied I cannot improve on what nature has given me, I go through and do a final check of the place.
    The doorbell rings at exactly seven thirty, and I take a deep breath as I open the door. Nick is standing there, punctual and perfect. He is dressed in black chinos, a white shirt, and grey jacket. Out of Regency gear he looks even hotter.
    “Hi,” I smile, enjoying the view for a few seconds before stepping back to let him through.
    “Hi, you,” he says with a grin and ignores my invitation. Instead, he waits for me to lead the way and then follows me into the lounge. He really has wonderful manners . He produces a bottle from behind his back.
    “I thought we could have a drink before we go out. I had a very successful day. A major contract signed and sealed. Now I have time to appreciate you properly.” He slowly trails his eyes over me, turning my bones to rubber.
    “You made your meeting on time then?” I ask.
    “Yes. How was the rest of your weekend?”
    I consider telling him about the hotel, but it all sounds too weird.
    “Fine. I left early the next morning and had a lazy Sunday.”
    I go to the kitchen in search of two matching wine glasses. When I return,